iambic pentameter...well sort of...well not really

I was challenged to write a 14-line rhyming poem in iambic pentameter. What I learned: I hate structure! But here it is:

wholly incomplete, dusty and battered

ripped twice with weak hands, today thrown away

yet the only thing that really mattered

without it his life was in disarray

he once had given to it tender care

but now it lay completely neglected

an untidy heap on the rocking chair

not a hope or prayer of being resurrected

til he had faded for so many sad years

and remembered what he had lost and found

wisdom often comes with much grief and tears

hoping for life the other way around

but still the color of blue stains the wood

while soft breezes offer silent retreat